The Only One
by Eminempern
Summary: Lanlia Impresses the green that almost died because she wouldn't have anyone else. Oneshot. Please review!
1. Original

_**Author's Notes:** My second published story in one night! Oh, well. I'm just starting this whole publishing thing. This is another oneshot story, just about the hatching, because of my inability to write plot as of yet. Please, please review, with advice or corrections, or even just to say that I rock (which, of course, I do)!_

Lanlia ran her fingers through her hair, making a face as it caught on an annoying tangle. She didn't like her hair – a nondescript brown, hanging short and scraggly to her shoulders.

She pressed absently on her nose. She wasn't in love with it, either – kind of small and round. Like her face. Round and small, with a healthy glow in the cheeks. Why did it have to be so round? She wasn't fat. Was she?

Lanlia sucked in her stomach. No, she was thin. But ugly. _I'm ugly. _She peered into the mirror, examining her reflection critically. Now, her eyes weren't bad. No, they were a bright, attractive brown. Why couldn't the rest of her face be like her eyes?

But it didn't matter what she looked like – the dragons thought she could Impress. There was a golden queen's egg on the Hatching Sands, and she was a candidate for it. She breathed in sharply in anticipation. The Hatching would be soon.

But just then, bluerider B'yar came in. "Lanlia!" he said. "Lanlia! Your – your – oh, I'm so sorry!"

Lanlia's guts gave a painful wrench. "Wh-what's wrong?" she asked shakily.

"Your… your father…" B'yar dropped his gaze. "He died."

Lanliaa blinked blankly, unable to comprehend the news. "…"

"I'm so sorry," Plesiath's rider said again. "Really."

"Father," Lanlia said, dazed. "Father?"

Father couldn't be dead. He was alive. Surely he wasn't gone. He was always there. No, it wasn't true.

"Lanlia… Lanlia, he fell off a runner. The creature threw him and… and trampled him. He's… he's dead."

Lanlia fell heavily into a chair. "H-he's what?"

"D-dead, La. Dead."

"Stop saying that!" Lanlia shrieked suddenly, throwing up her hands to defend herself from his words. "I – I heard it the first time."

_But I didn't like it. And I don't like it now._

Then, it hit her. Hit her like a wave. The grief slammed into her, and she gave a terrible cry of pain, and sobbed violently into her hands. Her father had always been the most loved in her life. Mother had been nice enough… and Lornarn, her brother… But Father was always there, to say that he loved her, that… she was beautiful.

And now, he was gone.

"I'm to take you to your hold," B'yar said gently, offering his hand to her.

Lanlia recoiled. "I don't want to go," she said vehemently.

"Your family needs you," the rider said softly. Lanlia reluctantly took his hand and he pulled her out of her chair. She felt a hot sensation in her stomach. She walked on wooden legs out to the waiting Plesiath.

B'yar helped her onto his dragon's neck, and they took off, throwing Lanlia's head back. She got no pleasure in the wonderful experience of riding a-dragonback. Before, it'd been wonderful. Now, it was leading her to her dead father. Dead. Dead Dad.

They went _between_, and Lanlia curled her fingers around B'yar's riding belt. She couldn't feel it, but she trusted that it was there, and she clung to that trust. That belief that he and Plesiath could get her out of there.

They did.

Plesiath landed, and Lanlia dismounted to run to her mother and brother. They all were sad and tried to console each other. Lanlia felt the tears begin again. Her mother's face was already stained and streaked, and even Lornarn's eyes sparkled. She felt sorry for them, but even more for herself. She vaguely wondered whether she should feel sorry for Father, too. After all, _he _was the dead one.

_No. He can't feel my sorrow any more. Wherever he is. Well, whever that is, it isn't here! And it isn't right. Oh, someone, please help me!_

"Come on," Lornarn said softly to his mother and sister. "We'd better go inside."

"I'll come get you later, Lanlia," B'yar said. "The Hatching's to be soon, you know."

"Yes… thank you, B'yar," Lanlia said absently.

* * *

As yet another couple came up to offer their condolences to the desolate little family, Lanlia felt an aching behind her temples. These people were kind. They meant well. They had known Father. She truly appreciated them. But all she wanted to do was sleep. Where was B'yar? 

"A dragon! A dragon!" cried one of the hold lads excitedly. Lanlia scrambled to her feet. Plesiath was bugling urgently.

"B'yar! Is it happening? Is it?"

"Yes!" B'yar called. "Come, Lanlia! Come!" Lanlia obediently scurried out, to mount the dragon and attend the Hatching.

But, in her haste, she tripped over a rock.

Sprawled on the ground, she felt tears of frustration spring to her eyes. Then, the tears turned to those of pain. She swallowed a wail of agony.

"Lanlia! Lanlia! Are you all right?"

"Numbweed!" shouted Lornarn. "Her leg's broken!"

Broken? That would explain the excrutiating pain! Lanlia managed to sit up, to dizzying waves crashing through her head. The leg stuck out at an odd angle.

Soon, blessed numbweed was slathered generously on the limb. Lanlia sighed in relief. But then, she remembered. "The Hatching! Oh, I have to go!"

"You're going nowhere until that leg's set," Chyry, the hold's healer, said firmly. "_Between_ on a freshly broken bone? Not while _I'm _the Healer here!"

So Lanlia's leg was hastily set. She was nervous. They had to be on time! She could even shake off the pain of a broken leg for the thought of Impressing a marvelous dragon. A dragon!

She was carefully settled onto Plesiath's neck. B'yar didn't even let her finish seeing her family wave goodbye before they were _between_. They came out. But something felt wrong.

"B-B'yar?" Lanlia said hesitantly. "I-I don't hear the Hatching."

B'yar slumped dejectedly on Plesiath's neck. "Oh, Lanlia. I'm so sorry," he said. "We-we've missed it."

Lanlia felt a cold sensation in her stomach. How come everything was going wrong for her today?

"Let me down," she said softly. "I want to see who Impressed."

* * *

"It was the strangest thing. But so sad," Myhla said, her hand on the head of her new golden hatchling. Lanlia's stomach twisted at the sight. That could have been _her _queen. "There was this little green hatchling. She came out, all normal. She turned around, looking at all of the candidates. But she began to wail most piteously. She just kept looking, but Rhyliabeth here," and Myhla looked down fondly at her dragon. "said that none were for the green here.

"So, the Weyrleaders came out and took the green to the stands. But she couldn't find anyone there that she liked. And I realized she wouldn't Impress, you know? So she would… would die. It was so sad. And, sure enough, she squeaked, and… I was right there when she went _between_.

"But none of the dragons keened. I thought they would. But Rhyliabeth doesn't say anything about the little green. I suppose she just… suicided when there was no one for her. That's happened before, you know."

Lanlia nodded, then trudged away from the dragonpairs, leaning on a big, heavy wooden stick that had been given her.

What would she do with her life now? She'd missed the Hatching. She didn't want to go back to her Hold. Not without her father. But could she stay here? To be reminded of what she had not been priveledged to get? There wouldn't be another clutch for a long time. And no queen egg, either.

She sighed, slumping on the floor, a bit away from everyone else.

Suddenly, a dragon burst out from _between _– right next to her! A young one, too – scarcely Hatched! Lanlia backed up, shocked.

The dragon was green.

She'd gone _between_, yes – but she'd come back out again! She'd been looking for her lifemate! Lanlia thought –

But then, Rhieth met her eyes, and she didn't need to think through anything any more.

**Thanks for reading!** **Please review. Even if you're not registered. It would make my day! You can say this sucked, or it rocked, or how to fix it...**


	2. Ending Two

**Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, we all know. I don't own McCaffrey's stuff, while I do have my characters.**

**ANs: At the request of CrossoverQueen, I'm making a new-and-improved ending for this story. It picks up right after she gets back to the Weyr in version one, before she meets the newly Impressed (which won't happen in v.2).**

* * *

Weyrwoman Rinyi stood up, frowning. "Tr'lay," she said. "Is that – it is! Tr'lay, a green dragon is… I don't know. She's just sitting there. She's not even looking at the candidates. Just wailing her little heart out!" 

The Weyrleader, Tr'lay, hastily scrambled out of his seat. _Kenzlith! _he reflexively cried in his mind. _What the shard is going on?_

_She does not want to Impress, _the bronze said slowly. _She is not happy._

_Doesn't want to Impress? _Tr'lay repeated, running down from his place to the burning Sands, skidding to a stop in front of the green. She squealed when he approached, but then took up her pitiful moans.

Rinyi came up beside Tr'lay. She waved away people who'd come to look. "Stay back," she warned. "We'll deal with this." Then, she turned to her weyrmate and said in an undertone, "What are we going to do?"

"We'll go see if there's someone in the stands," he said. "And if there's no one acceptable there…"

Rinyi swallowed hard. "Right."

Tr'lay slowly stretched out a hand for the poor little green. She warily looked at him, and when the hand came too close, she snapped at it, backing away. She was acting like a trapped animal. Tr'lay felt his heart squeeze.

Rinyi hissed under her breath, "_Relikth! _Calm her down!"

Tr'lay didn't think the queen dragon had had very much effect on the wild green, but he was able to put a gentle hand on her neck. She cringed away from him, but he guided her gently toward the seats where people waited anxiously.

Tr'lay brought her to the first row, which she looked at briefly, then took up her thin wailing again. He pushed her carefully up the steps.

They went through every row, until Tr'lay's thighs ached and burned. At his side Rinyi's face was drawing tighter. "Tr'lay?" she whispered. "Is she going to…?"

At that moment, a blue burst out of _between_. The green lifted her head, calling urgently.

"Plesiath?" Rinyi said blankly. "Why does she want Plesiath?"

Sure enough, the unImpressed green flung herself at Tr'lay's legs, squealing. He backed up, surprised, and she raced down the stairs, her slightly scratchy voice echoing across the Sands.

* * *

Lanlia was set gently on the ground by B'yar. She looked around. _What's that terrible sound? _she wondered, clapping her hands to her ears. 

Suddenly, from around the other side of blue Plesiath, bolted a tiny green dragon, who hurled herself at Lanlia.

_You are here! You are finally here! _Rhieth shouted happily in Lanlia's mind.

"What?" Lanlia breathed. "Rhieth? Rhieth? Oh, Rhieth!"

Tr'lay came onto the Sands, smiling with relief and that grin he always had during those wonderful Hatchings.

"Hello, Lanlia," Rinyi said, also beaming.

"Yes," Tr'lay said, picking the name up from his weyrmate. "Hello, Lanlia, and welcome to the life of a dragonrider of Pern."

_Yes. Yes, you are my rider. Now and forever._

_And ever and ever._

_

* * *

_

**ANs: There. Is that better? CrossoverQueen pointed out that dragons can't go _between _properly until they're trained, so I fixed this. If there's any more confusion, I'm happy to clear it up. I don't THINK there'll be another addition to this story, but who knows?**

**(The reason I left up the first version, too, is because I still happen to be rather partial to it. But this was very good logic on CrossoverQeen's part. Thanks again.)**


End file.
